crushed_pearls | Come Sail Away IC Inbox

Erin's voice mail message is in a weary voice: "Erin Peters. If you called in the middle of the night and I didn't answer, I'm dying. If I pick up and someone on your end isn't dying, they will be shortly. Text otherwise."

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From:

serialskiller

There is something you can do that will help me. Can I meet you somewhere? -SecUnit

From:

ossie_oswald

Erin gets a text from Ossie at some point fairly early in the morning.


Erin

I'm sure you recall how you told me you'd need good reason to render assistance.

Giles is not himself.
In a hundred little ways that add up.
Ways in which I'm sure I don't need to tell you of.
It is as if he's been replaced.

I'm planning on confronting him about it today.
If I send you anything other than 'hawthorne' please, please come render assistance. I know him like I know my own mind and something is wrong with him. I am just unsure as to whether it is within expected parameters for our kind.
The knock to the cottage is to the tune of 'the lonely goatherd', specifically 'yodelay-yodelay-yodelay-hee-hoo.'

Oswald

From:

littlefairytale

Ruby arrives at Erin's cabin a little before eleven. It's half a deliberate choice to make sure Erin is definitely done with whatever her standing arrangement is, half because she's gotten used to a fairly lowkey morning routine here in comparison to the get up and go mornings back home. So... by nearly-eleven she's actually fed and awake and has done her very basic morning warm-ups ahead of training later in the day.

She knocks with the back of her knuckles. "Hey, Erin."

From:

tempingainteasy

[From their brief visit to the morgue, or thereabouts.]

Hey, have you heard anything about the ghosts possessing people lately?

From:

midnightroads

you watned to talk? i havnt seen giles in days but im not mad abt it.

From:

pointofhonoria

What the fuck do you all even like about her?
I don't understand it. At all.

[ Daisy doesn't understand why she's sending this any more than Erin might, honestly. ]

From:

treadwater

So I think Darcy and I just broke up. In other news, I'm never leaving my cabin again.

From:

businessorlibation

May I ask a personal favor of you?

From:

prince_of_beasts

Ddid yuo make it
Are you erein

Sorry about the typing. Hopefully Erin's text-to-speech can make sense of it.

From:

saltwaterlungs

[ Early on in the month, a new folder of photos appears on the recipient's phone. Inside is a selection of photos from various points in Darcy's childhood. Key photos are as follows;

-baptism and confirmation

-a handful of pictures from her first fencing lessons at 8, and subsequent first competition at 12. Features a medal presentation with three other girls about her age.

-Darcy on an idyllic looking farm somewhere mountainous, looking bored and uncomfortable in gumboots

-Darcy at a Christmas market, utterly delighted and chewing on some cured meat.

-a slightly blurry picture of her asleep on someone's shoulder as a toddler, drooling a bit.

-a single picture of her at a princess themed birthday party. Darcy wears the haunted expression of a war veteran and a bright orange flouncy dress.

-several embarrassing photos of her doing dumb kid shit that she is willing to murder over.

Any additional or specific photos I leave up to your discretion, go nuts have fun physically kill her with embarrassment. ]

From:

ss_buttcrack

[After this conversation and also this one she is going to get that text Crichton promised to send later the very same evening (before the chaos happens).]

It really was my Arthur you met. Small world. Good news, he's not stuck on using "it" anymore. Mystery solved.

From:

redlightgreenlight

I'm not interested in any of what the captain said. Secrets can stay secrets. I'm texting only to send your own words back to you.

"You might find it hard to sell the idea that your death isn't important once people get to know you."

I may not know you well enough to feel much myself, but I'm sure there are people who would be hurt by your death.

-Valdis

From:

prince_of_beasts

About meeting in the cafe.
I'd like to take you up on that.

I will leave my weapons behind though we both know in my case that means little. However I swear on my name and those of the Saints that I will not resort to violence at this meeting.

From:

serialskiller

Jinx is gone.

From:

businessorlibation

I'm going to be hanging some fliers in the near future. I know you won't be able to read them, so here's the skinny: I'm offering lessons in sartorial excellence to those who need suit-style help in advance of the wedding. It's not a big to-do, I just didn't want you to feel left out.

From:

decrypter

[you know how they talk at night before settling down? Helena's lying on the bed, and then bursts out with:]

You were willing to let a cougar man eat you alive?!

[this has been rotating in her mind all day, okay.]

From:

pointofhonoria

Yeah so I just about served myself my own foot as a three course meal trying to talk to that Valdis woman. Feel like a right damn fool.

From:

ossie_oswald

Erin

Cottage at your earliest convenience
Thank you

Ossie

From:

qliphoths

[ tear sits centre stage, illuminated from above by a solitary stage light.
her fingers gently tug and pull on the strings of a harp, carefully pulling the notes of a
new melody out into the bellona.
she can occasionally be heard re-adjusting the notes, going back and replaying sections of
the melody until it sounds right to her.

when erin arrives, tear isn't quick to stop even when she hears erin's steps growing nearer.
her touch only slows on the strings as her friend makes her way up the stairs. ]

Erin.

[ there would normally be a breath of relief, of happiness, to that name -- but this
night there is only a tone of calm acknowledgement.

as promised, she was continuing to show up for their music 'lessons';
however, there was something she couldn't easily put to rest between them,
and she fidgets with the harp for one final note before drawing away from it.

tear had never been very good at beating around the bush, but even she isn't
sure of how to begin their conversation tonight. there had been so many variables
she'd been considering --

but jumping right into it may not be the most tactful thing to do. ]

... Thank you for coming. I wasn't sure if you were going to make it tonight.

[ it was an honest thought, given everything that had gone on: the
captain's comment, the one tear had spent so much time thinking about,
had clearly been upsetting to erin. she wouldn't have blamed her if she'd needed
time to herself. ]

From:

decrypter

[left outside the room Erin is sharing with Crabb is a silver grey faux fur blanket. very soft, very easy to cuddle with, and a paper with a brief message in braille. they'll find it whenever they get up.]

Merry Christmas.

From:

goodweather

[ Phil hasn’t got a way to deliver this in a way that’s comprehensible to a blind person, so in-person it is, much as he’d rather just leave it at the door.

So he hauls the thing out there that morning after the Silence and knocks. ]

From:

decrypter

At a reasonable hour when people should be awake but also might be in their areas, a brisk knock comes at the door of the room Erin's staying in. She's taking a gamble, but Christmas is now over, so Helena thinks she can ask without needing to wait until the tender goes back.

Please be in. Or she will sit and wait.

From:

astrogator

Peace and prosperity,

I know everyone's been through a lot lately. I wanted to see how you were.
And ask if that offer to show me the Muppets is still open?

- Tayrey

From:

serialskiller

Cabin 119, just about to hit noon. The SecUnit is curled up asleep, until it’s not asleep anymore, but it doesn’t rush to get up. Because part of having someone else here is…sometimes you lie there and listen to their breathing for a bit.

It likes that. That’s nice. But eventually it rolls over and stretches slowly, opening its eyes. The cyborg is active again.

From:

decrypter

It's probably something Erin can feel through the Mantle, rather than being told. A heaviness that clings to Helena when she's in their cabin in the afternoon, giving it her best shot at napping, but it's not working out. Tossing and turning, unable to be comfortable and so unable to sleep it off, breathing through it. Words won't come if she tries to write it, and she can't sleep it off, and her body's still recovering so she can't swim it off.

It feels like her heart was thrown into a blackberry bush, beating and being somewhat stuck all over. Controlling herself is something she's used to, and if she's to be honest, she did it to herself with this talk about miracles. It's her fault then, so she shouldn't be so unnerved. Her own fault. Somehow, that makes it want to settle down.